


Attempts in Life for Death

by GigglingGrave



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Banner-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GigglingGrave/pseuds/GigglingGrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth... and the Other Guy spit it out.</i> </p><p>Once you start thinking that the world is better off without you it gets hard to stop. Bruce doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attempts in Life for Death

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by sinesofinsanity on [Dreamwidth](http://www.dreamwidth.org/).

It started in Nepal.  
  
After a hard day, he came home-- or close enough. It wasn't much but he had what he needed. Some said it was the little things that got you. Bruce always thought it was the little things that brought the most clarity.  
  
He had been in the sugarcane refinery since before the sun was up, when the mist was still clinging to everything. It was pressed against him as he walked to work, obscuring other people as if they were just shadows and tricks of Bruce's imagination. It should have been a nice day.  
  
Around lunch, when the sun had cleared the mist away and pelted its rays down on the building's roof like sharp, hot stones, one of the other workers became... agitated. He had decided Bruce should just go back to being a fucking tourist and stop stealing jobs from the hard working men and women in the country. It had all gone downhill from there. The overseer got involved. It just wasn't pretty. Or nice. Or worth it. Bruce had been blamed and then fired for starting a fight. That part was kind of funny. You know, in a sad way.  
  
The good thing was the Other Guy didn't come out.  
  
That was the only good part.  
  
Damn, that made Bruce feel pathetic. When the best part of your day was the fact you could say, "Hey, I didn't turn into a big monster and kill everyone," you knew the day really wasn't worth living.  
  
What was he even doing with his life? He hadn't found a cure. He wasn't even sure there was one. Probably not. He wasn't even trying to _find_ a cure anymore; he was that much of a pathetic loser. Where had all of his determination gone? From before, when he had tried to control it. When he thought he could fix it. Bruce snorted. Fat chance of that.  
  
Mulling over his worthless existence, Bruce had made it home and locked the door behind him. He didn’t bother with making dinner. Instead, he laid down on his cot and the gun he kept nearby caught his attention.  
  
Another joke.  
  
The gun wasn't to protect him. It was to protect the unlucky person trying to burgle him. Wasn't that a riot? He planned to use a gun to scare someone away before he lost it and showed the robber what they should really fear. The real weapon in this scenario: Bruce.  
  
Bruce sat back up and picked up the gun. Maybe it wasn't too late or too early. Maybe instead, the timing was just right. Maybe he could protect people with this gun. He _could_ protect people from the Other Guy. From himself. He just needed to find the courage.  
  
As he put the muzzle of the gun in his mouth Bruce smiled. Seemed he'd found that determination he had been missing.  
  
Nobody came to investigate when they heard the gunshot.  
  
  
  
  
Bruce inhaled and then cursed under his breath. He blinked, bleary eyed. According to the clock it was only a few minutes later. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He wasn’t supposed to wake up. Bruce laughed. He laughed until he cried. He couldn't even die right. He couldn't even do that. Hilarious.  
  
He supposed he should at least be grateful the Hulk hadn’t rampaged. Guiltily, he thought of the people he could have put in danger without even thinking. Stupid. He had been stupid. Next time he would do it in a safe place where no other people could come to harm. He blinked and smiled. It was a comforting thought, next time.  
  
When investigating how he had survived he found the choked up bullet, smashed flat like it had hit Kevlar. The gun was in a crumpled heap on the floor. Bruce sighed. At least his determination hadn't left him. That was something. He just needed to find a way to kill himself that worked.  
  
And that's how it started.  
  
  
  
  
At first, he tested in places he knew it would be difficult for the Other Guy to hurt anyone. He would go far away from people. He found out that some precautions weren’t actually necessary. He would always wake up a few short minutes later, maybe even seconds, in the same spot he had fallen. It seemed the Hulk only rampaged when he was in danger from outside sources. Bruce wondered at that but took it for the small blessing that it was. The only thing he had to work around was being seen and after spending his new life hiding and blending in that wasn’t going to be much of a problem. Once he had figured all this out things became more structured.  
  
Wake up in the morning, go to his new work, come home, try to kill himself, fail at that, go to sleep. Every day. Every day the same routine. Well, similar enough. He would change the ways he would try and kill himself. This wasn't a joke like the rest of his life. He really intended to make the world a better place.  
  
He was also scientist. So he experimented.  
  
It started out simple enough. One day he would overdose on a few pills. Another day he would slit his wrists. He tried the normal routes first: suffocation, jumping off a cliff, and eating multiple poisons. The attempts went on and on with little success.  
  
So Bruce started branching out. He tried electrocution, cyanide, drowning, setting himself on fire. _What was a little pain_ , He thought, _if it could save the world from me?_  
  
He had considered putting himself in front of a car or lying on train tracks but Bruce figured the Hulk would try to smash the people inside the vehicles. He suspected the Other Guy’s unwillingness to hurt others when Bruce experimented had to do with where the threat came from. Those methods involved other people. Bruce wasn’t willing to do that. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He was doing this to save them.  
  
Bruce would look himself in the mirror sometimes, after an attempt. He didn’t like what he saw. All that looked back at him was the monster; regardless of how determined he felt to end it. The reminder of his failure would then become too much. It wasn't fair. He was just so tired. Why wouldn't the Other Guy finally let him rest?  
  
After every attempt he found he was forced to fall asleep at the end of the day how the majority of people did, with a morning to wake up to, and not the way he wanted. Bruce sighed. Eventually, he knew he wouldn't fail. Eventually he would get it right. He would go to sleep the right way. He had to believe in that. He had to believe he could save everyone from himself.  
  
  
  
  
_In case you needed to kill me, but you can't. I know. I tried._  
  
It had slipped out, but Bruce had told them the truth.  
  
_I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth... and the Other Guy spit it out._  
  
He told them the whole truth.  
  
_So I moved on. I focused on helping other people._  
  
He just didn't tell them what he meant.  
  
_I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk._  
  
And he was, good, that is, until they brought him here. Couldn't they see that using him as a weapon was the last thing they wanted? If Bruce had just been given a little more time, maybe if they hadn't needed him so soon, then maybe there wouldn't have been anybody to recruit. Bruce held onto that dream like a prayer. He put all his effort into it.  
  
So when he found out the power source, the Tesseract, was actually a weapon on its own Bruce thought, if nothing in this world could kill him, then maybe something from outside this world could. It wouldn't hurt to try.  
  
So try he did.  
  
And later, when it was all over and Bruce was still standing he sighed in disappointment. What about him wasn't a disappointment? Bruce knew it was great they saved the world. He should have been happy, but he wasn't. It may have sounded selfish to people who didn’t understand but he knew that there was still another battle that had to be won, the one against himself. He wished it had been a complete victory but he was still alive so it was hard to think of it that way. The world wasn't truly safe yet, not with him still around.  
  
Next thing he knew, Bruce was asked to join the Avengers and Tony offered him a place to stay in his tower. He could save lives and be useful while he tried to figure out how to die. That was nice. The Avengers would give him more ways to attempt to end himself and Tony reinforced Bruce's level of the Tower with Hulk-proof materials. They were similar to the prison SHIELD had made. Bruce could kiss him. Now he had all day to experiment and find new ways to sleep the right way, forever.  
  
Because of his new... perks, shall we say, Bruce upped his attempted suicide rate to twice a day: once in the morning and once at night. It was comforting that way, like a ritual of getting ready for the day and for falling asleep at night. It was also more productive. As time went on he went through so many tests. Bruce now had an easier time of keeping track of all the different ways he'd tried to kill himself. The list was long and nicely organized. It was also cross-referenced with similar attempts and perceived potency.  
  
JARVIS was also a great help, though he seemed reluctant. Bruce knew JARVIS couldn't say anything to the others about it, due to a loophole in Tony’s programming, so he was the perfect helper. Having the others help him would have been wonderful but Bruce knew that this was something he had to do by himself. He alone had created this mess and he alone was going to get himself out of it. The last time he had asked for help the scientist, Doctor Samuel Sterns, had done exactly what Bruce _didn't_ want happening. Sterns had made the Abomination. Bruce didn’t believe his teammates would do that. They would probably even be willing to help him find a permanent solution but Bruce had a hard time trusting anyone anymore with his other side.  
  
His teammates consisted of two top assassins, an asguardian, a super soldier, and one of the smartest men on the planet. Their expertise would be a wonderful help and Bruce knew they would see the benefit of getting rid of him but old habits die hard. He couldn't take the risk. Besides, because of his programming JARVIS wouldn't be capable of using and abusing any of Bruce's research. Plus, JARVIS helped Tony with his experiments all the time. This was no different.  
  
  
  
  
Bruce should have suspected something when JARVIS spoke up one morning.  
  
"Doctor Banner, would you like to drink some nonpoisonous tea this time? I have some Gyokuro green tea you would probably like."  
  
"No JARVIS." Bruce shook his head and took a sip of his newest concoction. If it worked like predicted it should kill him in twenty minutes.  
  
JARVIS didn't give up. "Then would you like me to call poison control or a suicide hotline? I have several numbers and can tell you which ones would keep your information confidential if you want to keep this a personal matter. I understand it is a sensitive situation."  
  
Bruce huffed a little bit of air out of his nose. It was almost a laugh. How long had it been since he'd actually laughed? "No JARVIS, thank you. That's pretty much the opposite of what I want. The point of this is to find something that will kill me so I’ll stop endangering people with a giant green rage monster."  
  
There was a long pause, finally JARVIS said, "Yes, Doctor Banner."  
  
It was only later, when the current attempt failed, that Bruce asked the AI why it had started asking now all of a sudden.  
  
"Tony recently upgraded me to help with a variety of health related issues due to a request made by Captain Rogers and myself. Sir thought adding a suicide countermeasure would be practical, even if he thought it would never be used. I believe he mentioned something about 'covering all the bases'." JARVIS's smooth and cool tone washed over him and made Banner pause.  
  
"Does that mean you have to tell the others?" he asked.  
  
There was another long pause as if JARVIS really didn't want to answer the question truthfully. "No, Doctor Banner. That is not currently a part of my programming."  
  
"Oh good," Bruce mumbled. He left his lab after that. There were other responsibilities he needed to see to.  
  
He didn't hear JARVIS, ten minutes after he left, say, "yet" to the empty room.  
  
  
  
  
After that JARVIS refused to help Bruce and instead pestered him by offering counterproductive 'aid'. Bruce had been doing this for far longer alone than with JARVIS's help, so switching it back to doing everything himself wasn't hard.  
  
Somehow, he should have known it wouldn't last.  
  
He woke up from his latest failed attempt to a loud alarm going off. Bruce shook his head to clear it. What had gone wrong while he was unconscious?  
  
"JARVIS, how long have I been out?" Bruce quickly got to his feet. Was he too late to help?  
  
"Fifteen seconds Doctor Banner." JARVIS didn't seem all that concerned about the alarm.  
  
"Why is there an alarm sounding?" Bruce rushed toward the door of his lab. Fifteen seconds wasn’t that long. He could still make it to wherever he needed to be.  
  
"A new upgrade from Sir. It goes off whenever an Avenger's life is in danger."  
  
Bruce's heart stuttered for a moment. No, please no. "Who's in danger and where are they?" Bruce opened the door to his lab.  
  
"You are, Doctor Banner, and you are currently in your lab."  
  
What? What.  
  
No.  
  
Bruce slammed the door closed and ran back to his lab table with the remnants of his last failed attempt. This couldn’t be happening. If he was found out-  
  
No.  
  
Bruce could feel the rage building. If he was found out he would finally have to face the fact that his friends would have no problem with killing him. Why wouldn’t they?  
  
No.  
  
He grit his teeth. It was one thing to know it and another to experience it. Bruce didn’t want to see his friend’s pitying faces as they tried to come up with a way to end him.  
  
No. No. No.  
  
He was turning green. If JARVIS could have just kept quiet a little longer maybe he could have done it all on his own. He could finally fix his mistake. He could-  
  
Bruce stopped himself. This wasn’t the time or place. He needed control. Bruce sat down on the cold floor cross-legged and slowed his breathing. In. Out. Control. Focus. Peace. In. Out. Control. Focus. Peace.  
  
He looked as the green color receded from his hands. Hopefully he would be under control soon. Just a little more and yes, he had reversed it and was back to his normal pigment. He was… fine, like always.  
  
In. Out.  
  
Control. Control. Control.  
  
That's how his team found him.  
  
It would have been comical if Bruce found anything funny anymore. Steve was sweaty in his workout clothes holding his shield. Clint was in his pink valentine heart boxers with his bow and arrows at ready. Tony, somehow, was actually able to get into his full armor. Natasha was also in her workout clothes and sweating. Maybe she had been sparring with Steve. She held two daggers in her hands. Thor had probably just come from the shower as he had towels around his waist and hair and was dripping wet. He held his hammer high. It crackled with small sparks of electricity.  
  
Bruce sighed and closed his eyes. This was not how he wanted to spend his morning.  
  
Steve came forward and broke the silence first when no threat presented itself. "Bruce?" he questioned.  
  
Bruce hmm'd and kept eyes shut.  
  
In. Out.  
  
"We were told there was an emergency." Tony's metallic voice emanated from the suit.  
  
"JARVIS overreacted." Bruce murmured. Hopefully they would get the hint.  
  
"I do not think I did Doctor Banner. Tony specifically programmed attempted suicide under emergencies that warranted an activation of the alarms," JARVIS stated.  
  
In. Out.  
  
Bruce sighed again and opened his eyes. Everyone had put their weapons down, or in Natasha's case, hidden away somewhere. Tony had his faceplate up. They were all staring at him. They wanted answers. Bruce really didn't have time for this. He slowly got to his feet. "It was an experiment." Bruce patted nonexistent dust off himself.  
  
"Holy shit! You're not denying it." Clint clapped a hand over his mouth as if he hadn't intended for that to come out.  
  
"Look," Bruce said, cutting off any questions they may have. "I know you all want to help but this is something I think I need to do on my own. Your interest is appreciated but-"  
  
"Bruce." Thor held up a hand to stop the other from speaking. His tone was soft. "Forgive me if your customs are different here, but in Asgard when a brother in arms is suffering it falls upon his comrades to help shoulder his burdens so that he may rise again and stand tall among them."  
  
In. Out.  
  
Steve shifted from one leg to the other. "That's pretty much how it is here too, Thor." The thunder god looked at Steve; his brow furrowed.  
  
"At least, that's how it should be," Steve added.  
  
Thor glanced back a Bruce. "Then why-"  
  
"Because I'm fine." Bruce ran a hand through his hair. "I have everything under control."  
  
"We can see that," came Tony's reply. It wasn't sarcastic, but Bruce could tell Tony didn't believe him. Bruce realized he wasn't getting out of this. They would look at his research. It didn't matter what he said now. He had been hiding it for so long out of habit. Maybe they could help kill him, as much as it hurt to finally come to terms with that, but that didn't mean they could demean how far he had already come.  
  
"I'd like to see you do better!" Bruce threw back. "I'm trying, okay? It's not like it’s easy figuring out what can kill me. I've tried. Argh, I've tried so many things! None of them work. Believe me, guns, poisons, suffocation, immolation-" With each passing article on his list of ways to kill himself the team's eyes got wider and wider. Bruce didn't notice. He really had tried, okay? He really did. It wasn't his fault he hadn't found the right thing yet. The magic kill switch. He tried so hard and that should count. That should count for something. It was just so fucking difficult. The Hulk seemed impervious to everything he had tried, every form, every variation. His meticulous lists grew ever longer with no answer in sight. "Trust me, there's more. It's a long list. So I'd like to see you do better. I’m trying to make the world a better place. And yes, I've failed… a lot but I'm not giving up. So don't act like you could figure it out in minutes because I've been trying for years. It isn't easy."  
  
There was silence.  
  
In. Out.  
  
Tony's whispered words could hardly be heard. "That is so, so not what I meant."  
  
Before Bruce could reply, Clint was next to speak. "Bruce. Buddy. Look, none, uh, none of us want to kill you. We like you." He looked earnest. Bruce didn't know what to think about that. That didn't make any sense. What did them _liking_ him have _anything_ to do with them helping to kill him? Did they not want to help? Did they not want to kill him? That didn’t seem possible. A silence stretched out as Bruce tried to contemplate what his teammates were telling him.  
  
"I don't understand." The words were past Bruce's lips before he could stop them.  
  
Steve was the first ready to answer Bruce's abrupt breaking of the silence. He opened his mouth but Bruce cut him off.  
  
"No, look, I am a danger okay? I kill people. I wreck things. Smash things. People. I am a liability. You know I'm a liability. How many streets has Tony had to pay to clean up and fix because of me? How many times has Thor had to attack me, the Hulk, the Other Guy, whatever, just as much as the actual enemy? How many times has Natasha had to attack me? Or Clint? Or Steve? Just so I wouldn't harm an innocent. How many people are put in danger because I'm on this team? How many?" Bruce paused. "The answer is too many. Sometimes I just wish I would go into those battles and not come out of it." Bruce dragged a hand down his face. He was tired, so tired of all of this.  
  
In. Out.  
  
"How many times have you saved my life?" Tony asked.  
  
"Or mine?" Clint chimed in.  
  
"Aye," Thor agreed. "How many times have we stopped a fierce enemy because you were there?"  
  
"How many," Steve asked, "How many innocents have you saved, since you joined the Avengers?"  
  
Bruce didn't want to look at them. This feeling, it felt like ash in his mouth. It could be shame but it couldn't. He shouldn't feel shame for doing what was right. Instead he looked at Natasha. She had been silent this whole time. Maybe she didn't care or maybe she was still deciding what side she was on. She was always the practical one.  
  
But one look at her and he knew that wasn't it. Her dark eyes were fixated on him. Scrutinizing. Measuring. Weighing. Bruce felt naked under her gaze. She wasn't smiling but she didn't look angry either. Bruce didn't know what to think. Then he caught a flicker of something before she hid it from him. Understanding.  
  
In. Out.  
  
Before he could contemplate that, Steve's hand was on his shoulder and turned Bruce to face him. "Bruce," Steve said softly. "We are going to work through this and we are going to be here for you. We're a team. You're one of us and we don't leave one of our own behind to suffer. Please, let us help you."  
  
Bruce placed his hand over Steve's and squeezed. These were his friends. What they wanted Bruce still didn’t fully understand but it couldn't hurt to try, right?  
  
In. Out.  
  
  
  
  
After that, the day was a blur. He was taken into SHIELD medical, just in case. The team stayed with him for a while and then they started staying with him in shifts. They continued even when he was released back to the tower. They only left when he went to sleep. Bruce knew this was their form of suicide watch even though they had JARVIS to alert them to anything, now. Still, even though he knew that was what it was it felt- damn, it _felt_.  
  
It felt nice.  
  
All of them came and all of them were different.  
  
Steve would draw or read. Sometimes he would let Bruce take a few scans to understand the serum, nothing more. He was sweet. Sometimes he talked about his latest book or the newest thing he'd learned about the future. He drew Bruce a few times and put them up on the wall. In each picture Bruce was always helping children or small animals. Sometimes another Avenger was with him.  
  
Clint was always perched on something and, to stave off boredom, asked a hundred questions about what Bruce was doing. It was a challenge to explain what he was working on. He found at first he used way too much jargon and referenced theories Clint had never heard of. Bruce found explaining his work to Clint in simpler terms actually helped him think his problems through better.  
  
Tony would bring work with him and get Bruce to abandon his own work to give input on Tony's, even though much of it was in a completely different field. They would switch from one project to another with Tony going at full speed the whole time. Bruce thought it was nice to, as Tony put it, speak with someone who spoke 'English'.  
  
Thor, at first, didn't know what to do with himself but he learned quickly. Thor found Bruce a great listener to his grand epic tales. Some he was in and some he was not. Eventually he was even able to coax some stories about of Bruce. They weren't as epic as Thor's but Bruce found the man to be a fantastic audience. He was emotive at all the right times and knew when to stay quiet and let the storyteller speak.  
  
Natasha was good at letting there be comfortable silences. She had taken to trying to learn some of the basic sciences and math she probably missed out on in her childhood. She didn't tell him this but Bruce suspected. She had said she was trained as a spy from childhood. Bruce doubted the training included high school chemistry. So she would bring a textbook and work through it, occasionally bringing it over when she needed help. In return she helped him learn Russian.  
  
It went like this for a while and Bruce really wasn't sure what he was doing with himself. Finding a way to kill himself had been his life. Now he had nothing. Well, he had his friends. Was this the right choice? What was he doing? Bruce felt he had no stable ground. At least standing on solid ground, as wrong as it had been, was less tiring than wading through this sea of confusion.  
  
Everything still made him tired.  
  
  
  
  
One day Natasha didn't come in with a textbook. She sat on the couch Thor and Steve had dragged in and stared at him. He got the hint very quickly and sat down next to her. They sat in silence for a while but Bruce didn’t question it. This was Natasha making sure that what she was going to do was going to be done right. She was double checking everything in her head.  
  
Then Natasha spoke. "I tried to kill myself once." She looked over at him and didn't blink.  
  
Bruce did. What? She-? Where was this-  
  
"I think you mentioned you had tried something similar. 'Death by Cop' I think it's called. But you chose a General."  
  
Bruce swallowed. He remembered that. It was the first and only time he involved an outside source to kill him. He had never tried it again.  
  
"I chose a SHIELD agent," Natasha continued. She looked at the wall in front of them. Even though she wasn’t looking at him Bruce knew she was monitoring him out of the corner of her eye. "Clint, specifically." Seeing Bruce was about to ask why she held up her hand to stop him. "I wasn't always SHIELD. I've worked for some very despicable people. I've done some very despicable things. I was a weapon."  
  
Natasha shook her head. "I am a weapon," She corrected. "But I didn't want that to be my life: the guilt and the pain and then the nothingness that followed. So I ran. I ran as fast as I could and at the same time let it slip to SHIELD where I was. They planned my assassination and Clint was to be my executioner."  
  
Natasha closed her eyes. "I remember the moment I knew he was there. I looked at him but saw nothing. Our Clint has always been good at finding great sniper locations." There was a hint of pride in her voice.  
  
Her eyes opened. "The shot never came. I was confused and a bit disappointed." Now a true wry smile crossed her lips for a moment and then disappeared. "Then came a man who looked absolutely ridiculous in his SHIELD sniper outfit and he was pointing a bow and arrow at me. Of course it was Clint and, of course, he wasn't following orders."  
  
This time the smile that spread across her face was much fonder. "He had a deal for me. He could take me to SHIELD and I could work for them, or he could kill me. It took me a moment to consider my options."  
  
Bruce wrung his hands together and then stretched them. "You chose to work for SHIELD." _You chose life_ was what he didn't mention.  
  
Natasha seemed to understand what he wasn't saying and nodded her head. "I chose to make up for what I had done. I've said this to others but not to you. There is red in my ledger. I mean to at least even it out. It's the least I can do. Maybe I can even make this world a brighter place than when I came into it. It's a nice thought," Natasha shrugged, "If that's possible."  
  
Bruce gripped his knees tightly. "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
Natasha took one of his hands between hers. "Lots of reasons. We're a little similar. We're both weapons. We both attempted suicide. We both don't know where we stand sometimes. We both needed to start our life anew. We're both Avengers. I thought it might help. You seem lost."  
  
Bruce sighed. "I don't know." He scrubbed the side of his face. "I thought I was doing it for the betterment of the world but what if that was a lie?"  
  
Natasha looked at him and rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. She waited for him to continue.  
  
"I'm just so tired." Bruce took off his glasses with his free hand. "I'm so tired, Natasha. I can't do this anymore."  
  
"So how have you been doing it since we found out?" Natasha asked.  
  
Bruce put his glasses down and looked at the hand she was holding. He thought about it. How he liked spending time with them, leaning on them. They were there because they wanted to be. They cared and... they helped. He squeezed Natasha's hand. "Thank you. I'm not- I'm not there yet, but I want to be."  
  
"There was also another reason I told you." Natasha squeezed his hand back. "We're family."

**Author's Note:**

> -This was based on [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/10266.html?thread=21726490#t21726490) on the Avengers Kink Meme on LJ.
> 
> -If you see any typos or mistakes feel free to let me know. Critique is also welcome.
> 
> -I had trouble trying to tag this. If you need anything tagged on this fic contact me and I will add it.
> 
> -Thank you for reading.


End file.
